


Me, Michael and Other Aimless Shenanigans

by chrxsalisgrace, skippyy_P



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Gay Michael Mell, In progress!, Jeremy has anxiety, M/M, Michael Mell - Freeform, Pining, These bois are oblivious as heck, Whoa, bi jeremy heere, i don't know??, jeremy heere - Freeform, poor jeremy :(
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-05-09 17:57:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14720885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chrxsalisgrace/pseuds/chrxsalisgrace, https://archiveofourown.org/users/skippyy_P/pseuds/skippyy_P
Summary: Ever since the SQUIP-cident, Jeremy has trouble falling back into his old routines without overthinking. Afraid of losing Michael again, he can't bear to leave his side.(This summary is just a placeholder, we're just winging it right now)





	1. Jeremy's Journal

_Michael was my first friend._

_That scares me._  

 

He looked up from his journal and sighed, staring at the Apocalypse of the Damned poster in front of him. _This is pretty hard._  

Ever since the SQUIPcident, his dad took it upon him that he should start acting more... Fatherly. Just the night before, his father suggested that Jeremy should start a journal.

“Here—,” his dad had broken off, smirking. “Heere. Get it?”

 Jeremy groaned. His dad really is gaining on Michael at being the victor of ‘The Most Horrible Pun-Maker in the Entire Galaxy.’

Speaking of Michael. He made a mental note to tell him that his dad was **totally** beating him at making terrible puns. He’d be furious to know that a man in his late fifties, who occasionally goes pantless for days at a time, was beating him at making lame puns.

“Anyways. Here, I got something for you.”

His dad rummaged through a drawer, and pulled out a small black notebook. 

Jeremy looked at it, frowning. “Uh.”

 “It’s a journal,” he explained. “You know, for when you really need to let out your emotions, instead of keeping it all bottled up inside?”

Okay. That made a bit more sense. He nodded.

“I’m really proud of you, son." 

“I know.”

“I mean it.”

“I know.”

 His dad smiled at him, eyes crinkling up at the edges, Jeremy looked away.

 As much as he appreciated that his dad actually started **being** a dad, sometimes he just wished things would go back to normal. Being surrounded by people who actually cared about him was just painful, knowing that he didn’t deserve all of this love. Anyways, what’s the use of being nice if you don’t even feel that way? Pity is not what he needed right now.

And there he was, writing about his feelings.

 

 _I hate that Mom is never around._  

_I hate how she abandoned us, leaving Dad behind to fall apart._

_I hate being surrounded with people who love me._

_Because I don’t deserve their love. I don’t deserve everything I’ve been given._

 

He could almost hear the SQUIP beside him. Cooing, “No, no. Of course you don’t.”

 "Because, see, everything about you is so terrible.”

Jeremy shuddered. His hands started shaking, palms sweating. His eyes scanned the room, looking for an evil Keanu-Reeves-looking man. He _knew_ that nobody else is in his room. Despite this, he still felt uncomfortable, feeling as if someone was watching him right now.

He took shallow, shaky breaths. He continued writing, his hand trembling so much that his handwriting looked more like a drunk 30-year-old man wrote it rather than a completely sober 16-year old teen.

 

 _I hate being sick._  

_I hate my handwriting._

_I hate how willing I was to take that damn SQUIP. Wasn’t_ ~~_Michael_~~ _video games enough?_

_Why does Michael still accept me? I don’t understand. I don’t. After everything I’ve done. The things I said in the bathroom, the things I did to him._

 

Jeremy stopped writing. Feeling sick to the stomach, he remembered the things he said to Michael.

He closed his eyes against the upsetting memory. God, to think that it was **_him_ ** saying that, made his head spin.

This is stupid. Why is he even worked up over this at all? He’s in a good place right now. He has good friends who he knows are willing to support him; his father is being _fatherly_ for once; and his best friend who he basically betrayed still loves him, even after everything he’s done. His life is so filled with love, which is why he hates it so much.

Because he doesn’t deserve it.

He scribbled everything out in frustration. In the margins, he wrote a single sentence.

 

_maybe i just hate love?_


	2. Alarm Clocks Suck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy REALLY needs more sleep.

The next morning, Jeremy’s obnoxiously loud alarm clock woke him up. Groaning, he blindly patted around for his blaring alarm clock. _Click._ Finally, silence: the perfect thing to get him back to sleep.

The next thing he knew, he felt his arm being poked repeatedly. He jolted awake and peered over his shoulder. Michael was sitting on the bed, head resting on his palm and poking at him idly. He looked really bored.

“Wow. About time, Jer. It’s been, like, five minutes, at least.”

“Michael? Ugh, what time is it?”

“Unimportant. I figured that you were sleeping through all of my honking. I probably woke up the entire neighborhood. So I let myself in… Through the window.”

Jeremy looked at his slightly-open window. “What the fuck,” he said blatantly.

“Don’t worry dude, I’ve done it plenty of times,” said Michael nonchalantly.

Jeremy probably should’ve been more concerned about that, knowing how much of a klutz Michael was. Instead, he started nodding off again, eyes slowly closing.

Michael had to shake him awake again. “Jesus, Jeremy, I had no idea you were such a heavy sleeper. Usually you’re the one complaining that you can’t sleep ‘cause of my noisy AC.”

“Y’know that’s not true, Michael,” Jeremy mumbled, eyes barely open.

“I have evidence,” said Michael, winking mischievously and hopping onto his feet. Literally _hopping_ onto his feet.

 _Well,_ someone’s _had their morning coffee._ It’s 7AM. It should be illegal to have that much energy that early in the _morning_.

He groggily sat up, rubbing his eyes. “Okay. I’m just gonna… Do, uh, hygiene stuff now.”

“Hurry up, dude. We’re going to miss our Mandatory Slushie Stop at 7/11.”

Jeremy smiled sleepily at Michael, he grinned back. God, how can one **not** love this boy. How he was always trying to help Jeremy and clean his messes up. How he was willing to take Jeremy back without hesitation, even after the incident with the SQUIP. Even after Jeremy abandoned him. He didn’t even hesitate. It’s crazy.

His smile faded when he entered the bathroom. He ran his hands through his hair and sighed. Yet even more evidence that Michael was too good for him.

 

-

 

“I call shotgun,” Jeremy declared as he dashed towards Michael’s car.

Michael snorted beside him. “Like you had any choice at the first place,” teased Michael as he unlocked the PT Cruiser.

“Hey! Just because I’m still a baby doesn’t mean I can’t drive!” Jeremy whined, sliding onto the passenger seat.

“That’s… Literally what it means, Jer. Babies can’t drive, and neither can you. Okay, anyways. Next stop: Sev’ Elev’!” said Michael enthusiastically as he started the car’s engine.

Jeremy groaned. “You are **not** calling Seven Eleven, ‘ _Sev’ Elev’_.”

“Tough luck, Jer.”

 

-

 

Michael’s car was a mess. No, that was an understatement. It was a complete disaster. Slushie cups everywhere, candy wrappers and a bunch of smelly Star Wars socks. (Which had Yoda on it, he looked more like a mouldy raisin.) Besides the fact that this car was falling apart, all of the good memories in this car totally made up for it. Most people have a certain smell that reminds them of a place or a time in their life. In this case, Michaels car smelled like McDonalds and vaguely of Jasmine. 

When Michael finally got his driver’s licence (which Michael, Jeremy was pretty sure, failed **too** many times.), he was super excited to drive Jeremy around the town. At first, Jeremy’s dad was a bit reluctant to let him ride in his car, (knowing that they would probably die, Michael’s attention span is nonexistent.) But, knowing how happy Jeremy would be, his dad finally let him. Since then, the only way he could get out of the house was when Michael was there, Jeremy didn’t mind. He was actually quite glad. Anyways, it was **so** much better than riding the school bus. It was terrible, it smelled like BO and car perfume. Disgusting.

Jeremy quickly glanced to his left, looked for a second at Michaels eyes. When Michael flicked this eyes towards Jeremy he quickly looked away, slightly embarrassed. He couldn't quite pinpoint what was going on with Michael. Every time Michael would not reply to his texts his heart would start pounding and his palms would start sweating uncontrollably. Thoughts racing in a blur, _did I do something wrong? Does Michael hate me? Why won't he pick up? Why won't he answer?_

Besides that, there were a few little things that confused him. The warm, fuzzy feeling that would come out of nowhere when Michael would grin at Jeremy or when he would do something little, like giving him compliment. Or just playing video games.

_Now’s not the time Jeremy!!_

Jeremy sighed and looked down to fiddle with the fabric of his blue cardigan.

 

-

 

After getting a slushie, (blue raspberry is clearly the best flavor!) they drove to school, screaming the lyrics to some ridiculously obscure song. The girl at the counter generously gave Michael more than usual. Which was strange, because most Seven Eleven’s slushies are self-serve. Probably because he was such a fanatic for slushies, and also because he was a regular customer.

“I'm surprised you don't have diabetes yet.” The girl at the register said jokingly.

“No shit, Sherlock.” Michael said with a grin.

“How about you?”

Jeremy stuttered, “M-me?”

“Yeah, you. Do you want one too?”

Jeremy let out a sigh of relief, “N-no thanks, i’m good.”

It's kinda ridiculous that Michael can handle a slushie this early in the morning. It kinda made Jeremy feel a bit sick looking at him drinking. Honestly, the only thing that Jeremy can stomach this early in the morning is a bit of cereal and some water. Strange.

The girl at the counter beamed at them. Jeremy glanced at her name tag, Veronica. Huh. Nice name.

 

-

 

For a school in New Jersey, this school had a surprisingly big parking lot. Parking his PT Cruiser next to Jake’s ridiculously shiny BMW, Michael hopped out (again-- _literally hopped out_ ) of the car. Not giving Jeremy a second to spare, he closed his door and almost instantly rapped the window with his knuckles, making a face. “Hurry up, nerd!”

 Jeremy rolled his eyes as he unbuckled his seatbelt and stepped out of the car, painfully slowly. He knew Michael does that all the time just to tease him. He’s so damn dramatic, and Jeremy found that endearing.

Although, not having a care in the world has ended up in pretty embarrassing moments. Like that one time that Michael spontaneously decided that he wanted to find out how long he could hang upside down from the monkey bars in elementary school… which somehow ended up in Michael breaking his arm, and ended up with no glasses for a week. But that was just one example, there was also this one time tha-

 “Jeremy, you're staring.”

 Jeremy turned red as a tomato.“Uh- wha- Sorry Michael, I didn't mean to-”

 “Jeremy, you don't have to apologize, it's no big. Let's go.” Michael said as he threw an arm over Jeremy’s shoulder.

 God, Michael was such a good friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WhoA!! A new chapter???
> 
> Honestly, we have no idea where we are going with this fic,,
> 
> Hope ya enjoyed! :))


	3. "Let's See What Dwells In The Depths Of My Trailer"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here is what consists of Jeremy's daily routine: being intimidated by Jake Dillinger, Christine sensing his anxiety, weird Youtube videos, and Michael.

Classes dragged along. Time seemed to stretch while Jeremy was in class.

Jeremy was on the brink of falling asleep when the bell rang. He always has a mini heart-attack when he hears the bell. It sounded eerily similar to the fire alarm in his middle school. He had multiple bad experiences with that stupid fire alarm.

He picked himself up and sluggishly lumbered to his science class.

As usual, Jeremy sat near the middle of the class, at the very left. When the teacher started talking, Jeremy suddenly felt another wave of drowsiness. He had a problem with falling asleep with all his late nights, especially whenever he stayed over at Michael’s. They’d talk for hours and hours, only to realize the sun was slowly coming up.

“If you guys open up your emails, you’ll see that I sent you some worksheets. Do the work in your notebooks. I’m looking at you, Marcus.”

Groaning silently, Jeremy reached into his backpack, searching for his pencil case. _Where the hell is it?_

Jeremy froze as the realization hit him. _Oh God._

Jeremy’s palms started sweating, heart started pounding. The only person that sat near to him that Jeremy remotely knew was Jake Dillinger. The handsome, rich boy, who everyone loves.

Even though they had many mutual friends (Rich being one of them), and they sit at the same table for lunch, they never really talked. Maybe it was because of the fact that Jeremy was a bit intimidated of Jake, even though Rich always talked about Jake as if he was a blessing to the world and lord of them all. Maybe that’s why Jeremy was so frightened of Jake -- because he’s so perfect compared to him. Tall, rich, handsome. Pretty nice for a popular boy. Teeth as white as pearls and his BMW car as shiny as… He doesn’t know what.

Jeremy started sweating like mad. He struggled to tear his eyes from his workbook to glance over at Jake. Jeremy’s breathing became shallow and the room seemed to spin as his thoughts raced.

The voices in his head started clamoring. _Jeremy, now is the time to stop. What's the worst that could happen?_

 _You never know!_ retorted Jeremy. _He could be really mean, and the last thing I need right now is to be made fun of._

Jeremy’s hands trembled as he sat, frozen. Then suddenly, he felt a light tap on his shoulder.

_Snap out of it!_

Jeremy bolted upright and turned around. A boy gave him a note, whispering, "This is for you."

Jeremy nodded at him thankfully and opened the note. _Jeremy, you alright?_ Christine’s bubbly handwriting asked.

He looked over his shoulder and gave Christine a thumbs-up. _Yeah, don’t worry_ . _I’m good_.

Christine returned his gesture. _Let me know if you need anything_.

 _A pencil,_ thought Jeremy instantly. But she was too far away and he didn’t know how to communicate that through sign language. So he smiled at Christine and turned his head back to the board, hoping that someone would realize that he was pencil-less and have mercy on him.

 

-

 

Jeremy and Michael had only been at their lunch table for 30 seconds when suddenly, Rich came barrelling towards their lunch table, hollering.

“GUYS, GUYS!! I was waiting to buy lunch, and this random dude next to me said that the singular of spaghetti is _spaghett_!! This is even bigger than my BISEXUAL AWAKENING!” He grinned like a maniac.

Well, that's Rich for ya.

Chloe rolled her eyes at Rich and continued scrolling through Twitter. Brooke smiled a little at Rich, probably confused.

“That’s great, Rich,” said Michael, tentatively.

“Y’know what else is a word?” asked Rich, smirking in such a way that Jeremy became suspicious.

“Don’t need to know,” Michael said, barely looking up from his phone.

A mischievous grin spread on Rich’s face. “Anal.”

Well. Uh.

Jeremy started choking on his mashed potatoes. “Jesus CHRIST, Rich!”

Michael slapped Jeremy’s back to help him on his choking situation, frowning at Rich. He offered Jeremy some water. Wide eyed, he accepted instantly. He chugged it down until he could breathe again

Michael glared at Rich in disapproval while still patting Jeremy’s back. “Richard Goranski,” he said sternly.

“Alright, okay, mom,” teased Rich, mockingly holding his hands up in defeat.

Rich can be a bit too much sometimes. Needless to say, he was genuinely a really nice, funny and a really caring person. But, he can get a bit... impulsive. Just that day, something _interesting_ happened in Math class. Rich sat in his chair shaking intensely (he looked almost like he was going to spontaneously combust) and bolted upright and screamed at the top of his lungs, **“PPPEEEENIIISSSSS!”** (although, it sounded more like ‘penidth’ with his lisp.) It was just ridiculous, and if it had been any other teacher, he would've been suspended for his loud mouth and obscene language.

Fortunately, their math teacher was pretty laid-back, and Rich got off the hook easily. At this point, everyone was sure he had a pretty bad case of ADHD.

Michael rolled his eyes at Rich briefly and looked back down at his phone. That left Jeremy to eat what's remaining of his mashed potatoes and talk to Rich. A couple minutes passed, and the table went on laughing and talking as usual. They were, without a doubt, the loudest table at the cafeteria as of right now, what with Rich burping loudly without shame and Jake laughing his head off at his best friend.

Christine arrived five minutes late, taking a seat in front of Jeremy with her lunch tray in hand. “Hey, Jeremy,” greeted Christine, offering a friendly smile.

“Hey, Christine.”

Jeremy and Christine’s relationship was _weird_ , to say the least. They had been dating for around one month until Christine broke it off, ending her break-up speech by pushing Jeremy towards Michael (“Go on, get your boy!”) and winking. Strangely, Jeremy had a weird feeling of relief after the break-up, like taking a deep breath of fresh air, a weight lifted off his shoulders. Of course, he felt guilty. After all, he _did_ almost destroy Earth for Christine.

But after that, their platonic relationship had bloomed ever since. It was rare for exes to treat each other as if they were long-lost siblings; nevertheless, they were very close, almost as close as Jeremy was to Michael. Christine was a great person to talk to, a great listener.

Before Jeremy could open his mouth to ask Christine where she had been, Michael cut him off, waving him over. “Dude, c’mere. I wanna show you something,” said Michael, eyes still glued to his phone.

“Ha, look at this.” Michael muttered with a smirk and offered him an earphone.

He showed Jeremy a clip of… Jeremy couldn’t even begin to describe it. His eyes flicked over to the video title. _Let’s See What Dwells In The Depths of My Trailer_.

Jeremy snorted. How in the living hell did Michael even find this video? This clip was like one of those strange videos that only Michael seemed to be able to find in the depths of the internet.

Jeremy watched in utter confusion, then kept on staring as it replayed. Jesus Christ. Did Michael seriously put this on a loop?

“What?? I don’t even know what to think about this.”

Michael laughed. “Me neither! But see, Jer, that’s the beauty of the internet; you find little gems like this and you can’t even see what’s real and what’s not anymore. Weird, right?”

Jeremy stared at Michael, still blinking in confusion. “Well, yeah, that’s one way to put it.”

Still snorting, Michael took his earphone back from Jeremy and continued watching the video on a loop, mesmerized by Garfield and the hand puppet, while Jeremy just smiled fondly at his best friend.

  
What a lovable weirdo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's the link to the video michael was showing jeremy, in case you were wondering (and yes, it's a very weird video hHHhH): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GDuOSJeZfTY


End file.
